


a (small) change of plans

by Sorbus



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, First Meetings, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Sentinel/Guide Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-25 22:49:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12542976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorbus/pseuds/Sorbus
Summary: “If you would be so kind,” Harry said, keeping his mind on acting like a gentleman, “could you possibly unhand my guide?”Obligatory Sentinel/Guide AU





	a (small) change of plans

The mid-eighties had been ripe with social progress movements, Harry recalled. It actually started as early as the late sixties in all fairness, but, he shook his head, that wasn’t the point. No, he was remembering a specific three-year period of radical guide right movements, much of which focused on _The Imprint_.

There were consent issues implicit in the unfortunate tendency of ‘destined’ – a word Harry used with some scepticism – guides and sentinels to lay eyes on one another, freeze for all of two seconds before erupting in a flurry of frantic movement resulting in one being hauled off by another to somewhere _safe_ , of that there was no doubt. The need to bond usually, but not always of course, resulted in an – ah. Act of congress, if you will.

Three people were violently injured in their attempts to disrupt such meetings when they happened to chance nearby before the police had stepped in and the government got involved. A number of rushed pieces of research on how neither party had much choice in the matter ensued and a near complete re-haul of guide rights to placate the angry movement had to happen before the whole thing died down, but Harry never really forgot the suddenly developed and deep-rooted fear he’d meet his guide during those years and get caught being a complete and utter Neanderthal in attempting to alight together.

At least he’d be able to tell his therapist his fears had all been for naught.  

“If you would be so kind,” Harry said, keeping his mind on acting like _a gentleman,_ “could you possibly unhand my guide?”

The two young men, one restraining his guide – _his guide_ – from behind and the other arm drawn back and preparing to punch froze and looked up at him.

Their faces were rather comedic in their surprise, if Harry would take the moment to consider it. It wasn’t often his sort – English, well dressed, and seeming as if he’d never washed a dish in his life – was strolling around the, ah, less favourable areas, at night no less. As if was, he had to pick up something from the charming – really handsome, if he left himself think about it, which he _would not_ – techie currently being jumped. His guide.

 _His guide_.

Harry’s hand tightened on his umbrella. He really wasn’t looking forward to making a bad first impression on his guide, but really if they did not _unhand him_ –

The guide in question took whatever decision he had out of his hands in the next moment, by drawing back his arm and delivering a bone shattering punch all of his own. One assailant went down and – oh, there went the other with a truly _spectacular_ uppercut.

Harry had to refrain from sighing dreamily.

The guide – he really needed to get his name – was shaking his hand absently and making sure the two thugs was out. Harry couldn’t see as well as he’d like in the low light, but he could make out a firm jaw, bald head, the standard thick black glasses, and a nice jumper-tie combo. He looked good, good enough to be the target of some unfortunate thugs at least. Harry really couldn’t resist any longer.

“What in god’s name do you think you’re doing?” His guide’s beautiful deep Scottish voice addressed him where Harry was clung to the other man’s side like a limpet. He was twisting around, no doubt preparing to throw Harry off too, with a low snarl of “get _the hell_ – oh.”

And his eyes met Harry’s face and the Englishman could see realisation dawn before he let out a yelp at being removed from his awkward place of halfway between the man’s side and back and repositioned to right in his arms instead.

“Do you have somewhere safe we can go?” He asked to Harry, who was trying to burrow as close as possible into the other man’s jumper. “Hey, are you listening?”

“Yes, yes. Wait, no– no, I’m here on a mission, I have to get some data from you actually before I go back to London and–” He was rambling and more than a little grateful when quieted with hand to his mouth.

“Kingsman?" A nod. "We’ll use one of the safehouses then.” And with that, he picked Harry up like he weighed little more than a bag of apples and took off.

Harry took a moment to appreciate the irony – after all his fears, he was the one swept off his feet – but also couldn’t stop the happy sigh this time around. His guide was such a good agent that he wouldn’t consider compromising a safe house for a civilian even when they were his future-bonded sentinel. It was more than a little dreamy.

As it was, they made it to the house in one piece and no worse for wear. Not that anyone who would try to impede them would get very far – if his guide didn’t get to them Harry most certainly would – but they arrived with no incident and happier for it.

“Get – get your jumper off.”

His guide hesitated a moment before complying, and Harry had already stripped out of his jacket and working on his shirt and undershirt. His cufflinks, god bless the beautiful things, were very difficult to remove with much speed. Harry grabbed the jumper from the other man’s hands and rather unceremoniously pulled it over his own head, and took a deep whiff.

“Much better.”

Ignoring the amused-bemused look his guide was giving him – honestly, he was a _gentleman_ , was he expected to just go _wild_ in some sort of animal mating frenzy? – Harry steered them both towards the comfortable looking sofa and wrapped them up tightly with the decorative throw. It was pretty soft, surprisingly enough.

“Are we going to talk about it?” His guide asked, having decided upon amused when Harry went back to clinging tightly to his side.

“Hmm.”

“You know, usually we’d be in bed right about now.”

“Is the sofa not comfortable enough?”

That earned Harry a laugh, the muscles under him shaking with it in a way that felt pretty nice, and a pat on the head.

“I suppose it is.”

Harry was all for preparing for a long and extended cuddle before he remembered. “Harry Hart. I am, I mean. May I ask your name?”

He could hear the smile in the other man’s voice as he replied, wrapping his own arms back around Harry in return.

“Merlin.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Harry replied, clinging a little tighter to try and get just that smallest bit closer.

Merlin lay his head to rest on his Sentinel’s fluffy head, considering the oddly ridiculous man attempting to cling to him with all his might.

“I’m sure it will be.”

 


End file.
